


Hades in a handcart

by elzed



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-10-28
Updated: 2009-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:42:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25288519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elzed/pseuds/elzed
Summary: First published in 2009. Sigh.Prompt: Can't get off this ride.
Relationships: Lee/Kara
Kudos: 8





	Hades in a handcart

**Author's Note:**

> First published in 2009. Sigh.
> 
> Prompt: Can't get off this ride.

This is an expanded entry of my [porn battle comment fic ](http://community.livejournal.com/bsg_pornbattle/11827.html?thread=1432115#t1432115)(and heavens, this has been a long time coming...)

Thanks to [](http://taragel.livejournal.com/profile)[**taragel**](http://taragel.livejournal.com/) for reminding me to take part; and to my fab beta [](http://overnighter.livejournal.com/profile)[**overnighter**](http://overnighter.livejournal.com/) for turning this around, as her name suggests, overnight...

 **Spoilers:** Season 3; up to _Eye of Jupiter_  
 **Wordcount:** 1,700 or so  
 **Disclaimer:** I would love to lay claim to Lee Adama, especially, sweat and all, but sadly cannot. Borrowing the characters and setting, and making this a labour of love, not lucre.  


Each time she breaks atmosphere, the darkness of space comes as a relief after the unforgiving glare of the algae planet’s sun; it’s a cool hand on her brow, soothing away the near-permanent headache brought on by the light, the stifling heat and the stench. It doesn’t last, because every second takes her further from Lee, marooned on that stinking rock, hers neither to have nor to keep.  
  
The ache is almost physical, in her bones, and it pisses Kara off how connected she feels to this man who has no claim on her; who chose to marry another; and whose body exerts an attraction on hers as powerful and undeniable as gravity.   
  
Stolen kisses, furtive gropes; if they’re lucky a quick handjob in the bushes; Lee’s face despairing when he comes, their pleasure sullied by guilt and shame; and neither of them can stop coming back for more.

She’s already counting the hours to her next donut run.

**

Lee Adama is the most devious bastard in the fleet and the worst husband in the history of husbands – of that he is utterly convinced, as he sends Dee on an inland recon mission an hour before Kara’s due to fly in. Not that Dee has any illusions – that much he knows about his wife, whose patient, pinched endurance he tries to ignore every time his lover’s Raptor thunderclaps into the sky above their makeshift camp.

It’s getting harder and the guilt is eating him alive, but he can’t resist any more. He’s craved this without respite, ever since he first met Kara on the arm of his brother and realized he could betray Zak for her. And he would have, if Zak hadn’t died first. She’s his obsession, like a drug he’s addicted to, and Dee – poor Dee’s just collateral damage. That’s what he tells himself at night, lying next to her as she pretends to sleep, but he doesn’t actually believe it. He knows he’s just making excuses, and poor ones at that.

His wedding ring feels tighter than it should. This is bullshit, because Lee remembers how constricting it got when he put on all that weight, and it’s positively loose compared to those days. He’s taken to running his thumb over it absent-mindedly all the time, as if he were trying to rub it off. He tries not to think of it as a shackle, fails.

Still, Dee’s gone, and any minute now he’ll hear the screech of Raptor engines coming in at full throttle. His cock is already twitching at the thought of Kara’s tongue in his mouth, her hands roaming over his body, the feel of her sweat-slicked skin under his fingers.

Any minute now.

**

The hatch opens with a hiss, letting in the fetid, muggy air. How Lee manages to spend all his time here, Kara doesn’t know. But already there is something enticing about that rotting seaweed smell, because it means Lee, and sex, and dangerous, forbidden, erotic intimacy.

Oh, she is so frakked up.

She’s unfastening her flightsuit – they’re never really comfortable but in this heat the thick material is intolerable – when she hears his footsteps outside. He’s alone, as he usually is – although sometimes Dee comes along, just to make things a little more tense and awkward, and delay the inevitable – and it’s almost humiliating how turned on Kara is already.

“You can’t make a quiet landing, can you?” he asks as he ducks into the shuttle, his pupils expanding in the dim light, turning his eyes darker as she looks at him. Maybe it’s not just the light, she thinks as his gaze lingers on her body emerging from the flightsuit she’s peeling off.

“Now what would be the point of that?” she says, laughing.

“I don’t know, a little discretion maybe?”

He’s moving closer to her, slowly, with definite intent, and her entire body is taut in delicious anticipation of his touch on her skin.

“When have I ever been discreet, Lee?” and as the words leave her mouth she sees the flash of resignation and guilt in his eyes.

He doesn’t say anything, though, just reaches out for her and pulls her into his arms, his embrace warm and damp with sweat; the scent of him rising through the pervading algae stench and making her stomach flip.

 _Gods_ , his mouth, his lips on hers, the intensity of his kisses as his hands slide from shoulder to waist to hip and back again, thumb brushing past a nipple, and she combs through his hair with her fingers and drags him closer.

They’re necking like a pair of teenagers in heat, again, and the ECO console’s corner is digging into Kara’s hip, but it doesn’t matter, because she’s in Lee’s arms and anything else is just background. She moans his name softly and he grinds his cock against her, hard and demanding.

She wonders whether they can get away with having sex in the Raptor.

**

Lee’s universe has shrunk down to the modest confines of the Raptor, his senses overwhelmed, dizzy with lust and need. He’s horny enough not to care if they get caught, but not enough to stop despising himself for it, even as he snakes a hand down her shorts to find her soaking. The slick warmth of her flesh parts willingly under his fingers, she sighs into his mouth, quivering with every touch on her erect clit, and Lee forgets about everything except how much he wants to frak her.

He’s impossibly hard and getting harder as she moans and writhes under his fingers, her legs spreading as far as the hobbles of her flightsuit will allow.

“Please,” she gasps when he pushes two fingers up into her, “Lee, please...”

“What?” he breathes into her ear, stilling his hand, and she clamps her legs tight around his wrist.

“No more teasing,” she hisses. “Let’s just do it.”

She’s staring at him with more than a hint of defiance, but Lee doesn’t need that to follow his instincts. They’re too close to the gaping hatch, so he drags her further into the narrow gap between the cockpit and the main body of the shuttle and finishes stripping her methodically with his free hand, pushing her underwear down and her tanks up her body, dipping his head to kiss her breasts open-mouthed, each lick of his tongue punctuated by her moans.

There’s an undignified tussle as she struggles to kick her boot off and free a leg from her flightsuit while simultaneously unbuttoning his pants, until she overbalances, slams into the bulkhead, and bursts into a fit of giggles.

“Oh, so you think this is funny?” Lee asks, and when she bites her lip and nods in response he hoists her leg over his hip and pulls her to him, his aching cock rubbing against her once, twice, three times before she swears, reaches a hand out and guides him into the welcoming heat of her cunt.

There’s a million conflicting emotions jostling inside Lee’s brain at that moment, chief among them gratitude and relief, coasting on a wave of pleasure that threatens to drown everything else out. Love, too, although he doesn’t really allow himself to think about it, ever, because he remembers all too well what happened last time, and how they ended in this unholy frakked up station in the first place. And shame, but that one is pretty much a given all the time, these days.

And then Kara arches against the bulkhead and sinks onto him, deeper, hotter, more alive than anything he’s ever felt in his life, and he has to bite her shoulder to stop himself from shouting out loud.

Gods, she is everything he’s ever craved, his alpha and his omega, and if he were struck dead this minute he would die happy, while she bucks her hips against his and shatters around him, taking him with her to the peak of ecstasy. But all he gets is the little death of his orgasm, followed by the crushing knowledge that this is another grievous breach of his already much-tarnished marriage vows, and that he’s now become _that_ guy – the one he never thought he’d be.  
  
They disentangle their limbs from each other slowly, both of them still shaky; and Lee tries not to look as guilty as he feels while he gets dressed.

Apparently, he fails miserably, and Kara’s no dupe.

“Apollo, if I wanted you to look like your dog died, I wouldn’t have gone to all this trouble,” she mocks.

“I know,” he answers, reaching out to grab her palm and kiss it, which, surprisingly, makes her blush. “I’m sorry.”

Arguably she’s not the one he should be apologizing to, but they never talk, and he’s not about to start now, when they’ve already stretched what little time they had to suspicious lengths. Their shared time is made of illicit embraces and stolen moments; never a word spoken about what it is they are doing, about how wrong it is, about the other two people whose lives they’re ruining.

**

Two hours of lugging crates and checking lists; of brushing past Lee as they move equipment around, and pretend it’s not a turn-on, even after their frak; of avoiding his gaze and praying Sam won’t suddenly turn up – he doesn’t – and Kara’s back at the shuttle, relieved and bereft all at once.

The Raptor’s air cools noticeably when she closes the hatch, making it marginally more bearable to put on her flightsuit, but she’s already thinking of the shower she’ll take as soon as she’s back on board _Galactica_. She busies herself with her pre-flight routine, checking instruments and readings, and fantasizes about washing her hair.

She wonders as she fires up the engines how many people know what’s going on – apart from Dee and Sam, who can’t possibly be unaware. She remembers the look Chief Tyrol gave her when she stepped out of the shuttle in the blinding sunlight, how he avoided her eye, how they both pretended he didn’t know what had just happened in there.

Sometimes she wishes he could step off this crazy ride they’re on – which is clearly taking them to Hades in a handcart – and stop all the madness. But it’s entirely beyond her, or that’s what she likes to tell herself.

Besides, she’s already thinking about next time.


End file.
